And it was, bar none, the most intense sexual encounter of my life.
I just didn’t know what to do now. Hannah was my girlfriend. Sleeping together was natural. Expected.
It shouldn’t be tangled with anger and mistrust.
“Can you turn on a light?” I asked, my voice rough.
“Sure.” Hannah rolled over and turned on the lamp. I winced in the sudden brightness.
Hannah covered herself with a blanket, pulling it up around her breasts. Her hair was disheveled, her skin splotched red. I could see the marks from my mouth on her collarbone. Her lips were raw and bruised, the soft skin still bleeding sluggishly from where I bit it.
She tried smiling. It seemed to take a lot of effort.
I pulled the condom off and tied a knot at the end. “What can I do with this?” I asked.
Hannah pointed to the far wall. “There’s a trash can over there.”
I got up and tossed the condom, grabbed my boxers and jeans from the floor, and pulled them back on before sitting down on the edge of the bed, my back to Hannah.
“Are you leaving?” she asked quietly.
I let out a breath, weighted with questions. “I don’t know,” I told her.
“I thought that would have been different,” she said, sounding sad. Maybe a little angry too.
I looked at her over my shoulder. She was staring at the ceiling, her fists clenched in the blanket. “What do you mean?”
She glanced at me, her expression conflicted. “Do you want to be here, Mason?”
“Yes. But…” I ran a hand over my face in agitation.
“I thought you wanted me to be your safe place.” Her words sounded like an accusation.
“I want you to be.”
“How can I be if you’re now expecting the worst? I want to make this work. Do you?” A tear fell down her cheek, and that was my undoing.
I couldn’t bear to see her cry.
I crawled across the bed, bracing myself over her. “I want this to work, Hannah, but I’m conditioned to look for the worst in people. It’s what I’m paid to do. I’m wary by nature. And you not telling me the truth—”
“I get it. But please stop looking for the worst in me. I’mterrifiedthat you’ll find it,” she pleaded, the tears falling harder.
I wiped them away with the pad of my thumb. “Please don’t cry,” I murmured, kissing her cheeks, feeling like an ass. “If that’s the worst, I think I can deal with it. And I’m the one who should be terrified.”
Hannah sniffled, her eyes now bloodshot. “Why?”
“Maybeyou’llsee the worst inme,” I rasped, my voice cracking, my cheeks wet with my own tears.
Our lips met and this time it wasn’t angry. It wasn’t rough and wild.
When I took my jeans off again, it was slow. Deliberate.
And when I entered her a second time I wasn’t filled with doubt and rage.
I was full of something sweeter.
“I’m sorry,” Hannah whispered against my skin.
